Brighter Days
by jeka1215
Summary: The war is over and it's time to move on. But how? What happens next? Follow Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys as they struggle to pick up the pieces of their broken lives and get out of the shadow of the pain they all feel. They're moving towards the brightest days of their lives, but they have a long way to go to get there.
1. Chapter 1

Ginny Weasley sat in silence as she stared up at the night sky. She was silent a lot these days, and it's something she never expected. If her mother had ever told her that she'd be spending most of her nights staring out her bedroom window in silence, she would've laughed until she cried.

But that was then. Things were different now.

Life was so much easier when she was younger. Bill used to take her outside and toss her in the air, and treat her like a princess. She was always his favorite. Charlie bought her stuffed dragons and castles and they made up stories about princes who rescued the princess from the castle by slaying the dragon. Naturally, Charlie always got to be the dragon. Usually poor Ron got stuck being the prince. He pretended like he hated it, but Ginny knew he loved spending time with them.

Percy taught her how to think. He'd tell her riddles or bring her puzzles to work, and then he'd sulk when she finished the puzzle first. Fred and George loved to play pranks on her because it was a true test of their skills. She was much younger than they were, but she also had an uncanny ability to know when they were up to no good, and tended to stay out of trouble that way. And Ron, well, Ron spent his time just trying to remind everyone that Ginny wasn't the _only_ young Weasley running around. He was never so happy as when he got to go to Hogwarts and leave her behind. It wasn't that he was mean, he was just happy to have a moment where he got to be in the spotlight. Being the youngest brother, but not the baby of the family, was tough on Ron, Ginny knew that.

Her parents treated her like a star. She was their princess in a world full of frog princes. She was encouraged to express herself and be whatever she wanted to be. They loved to read to her and tell her stories. And as each boy went off to school, they got to spend more and more time with her alone. Not that it was quiet. Ginny made plenty of noise on her own.

Harry Potter was simpler then, too. He was just a famous boy who defeated a greater evil than young Ginny ever understood. He was an icon, a hero. He was the prince who slayed the dragon to save the princess. She idolized him, as did the rest of the wizarding world. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine she'd be face-to-face with him, one day. She also didn't think she'd be sticking her elbow in the butter dish, or sending him singing Valentines, or drooling over him in the Great Hall.

She definitely didn't think he'd be rescuing her from Tom Riddle's spirit by killing a basilisk with the Sword of Gryffindor in the Chamber of Secrets after she set the evil creature loose in the school. That's when the silence began.

At first it was the kind of silence that isn't silence at all, but screams in the middle of the night, waking up in a cold sweat, tangled in blankets and dreams of snakes and darkness. But except for the screaming, Ginny didn't say much at all, at least not for a while. Her mum bought her a small notebook for Christmas that year, and Ginny learned that the nightmares stopped for a little while if she just wrote her thoughts down before bed. She talked less and wrote more.

And she seemed to have a new-found connection with Harry Potter that she just couldn't explain. It wasn't a sixth sense, entirely, just a sort of hyper-awareness of his presence. If he walked into a room she was in, she knew, instantly, that he was there. She knew, at a glance, if he was agitated, excited, anxious, or sad. She knew who he fancied, and not just because he was bad at hiding it. She knew things about him that nobody else knew, even Ron and Hermione. She doubted they knew about his nighttime habit of wandering into the common room and staring at the fire. She knew, because sometimes, she was there, too, recovering from a nightmare, as Harry was likely doing. He never noticed her. He was far too deep in thought. But she watched him as he found peace in the crackling fire, and then went back up to bed. They were alike, in that sense. The common room fire was more cathartic than Ginny's well-used notebook or any Occlumency technique Harry might learn, if Snape ever got around to actually teaching him anything.

And when he faced death every year, Ginny held her breath until she knew he was safe. She knew that she would know if he was dead. That part of her stomach that came to life when he saved her would grow cold and dark when he passed from life into death. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief each time Madame Pomphrey pronounced him safe and healthy.

Ginny even knew the day that things changed between her and Harry. She was sitting in her room reading a letter from Dean in the summer after her fourth year. Harry had just arrived from Privet Drive, and the family was ambushing him in the kitchen. She went down stairs to greet him when this feeling of warmth washed over her. Instead of the smile she had intended to greet him with, she found herself engulfing him in a hug and welcoming him back. She didn't know what made her do it, but the bemused expression on Harry's face told her that things had definitely changed, though he wasn't quite sure how, yet.

It took him months to figure it out. But the moment he did, she knew. He called it the "beast inside his chest", and when it roared for the first time, Ginny felt a shock-wave through her whole being. It wasn't just the surprise of being discovered snogging Dean that made her jump in surprise, it was the energy that was radiating off of Harry, and the intensity of his gaze. She knew he was looking at her, even before she turned her brown eyes to his piercing green ones.

In fairness to Dean, and because he was a genuinely nice guy, she dated him for a while longer. But Harry was electric, and she just couldn't be with Dean when Harry kept sending jolts through her every time he walked by.

If you'd told an eight-year-old Ginny Weasley that Harry Potter would snog her in the middle of the crowded common room after an unexpected Quidditch victory, she would have called you a lunatic and kindly asked you to see a Healer.

If you'd told her that she'd rush him from across that same common room, thereby causing the kiss in the first place, she'd probably fall out of her chair in a dead faint.

The instant he came through the portrait hole she knew something was different. He was alive, charged. The Quidditch victory had turned his bad day into something new, and he was so proud of her that he could hardly contain it. He was bold, too. She could tell that without even seeing him. He had a courage she'd never seen in this boy-wonder before. And then there was that warmth again, just like she felt at the Burrow. And much like what happened at the Burrow, she simply ran at him.

Later, when they talked about it, he said she had this unreadable blazing look in her eyes and he just _knew_ that he was supposed to kiss her. He didn't think about it, didn't ponder it, didn't question it. He just kissed her, because he knew that if he didn't, the world wouldn't ever be right again.

There, by the lake in the sunset on a cool, Spring day, Ginny Weasley fell in love with Harry Potter.

And then, just like it began, it was over. He told her it was for her own safety, and she didn't question his decision. He had things to do that she wasn't a part of yet. He didn't love her the way she loved him. Not yet, and maybe not ever. But he still cared deeply for her, more deeply than even he knew. Ginny knew, though, because she could feel it burning inside her. She told him to be safe, and that she'd always support him, and she let him go.

Somehow, she knew that he was the only man she could ever love, and she still let him walk away from her, carrying her heart away as he went.

The next year was torture, for them both. He was miles away in unknown country, but she knew he was safe. She could feel his vitality deep inside, in that warm place that only she knew about. She fought hard for him, as she knew he'd want her to. She used her vigor during the day to sabotage the Carrows and Snivellus. At night, she stood in silence by her window, staring into the stars wondering if Harry could see what she could see. When the stars were veiled by clouds, she ventured down to the common room to gaze at the fire until she was too tired to stand anymore. Only then, when she was assured she was far too tired to dream, would she climb into her bed and sleep.

And then, one day, even Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore. So she left, and went back to staring out her own window at the Burrow, thinking about Harry, wishing him luck.

The battle was a blur. It was flying beams of green and red, puffs of smoke, pops of apparition, and the unmistakable sound of the collapse of Hogwarts' wards. She heard the announcement old Tom made about Harry coming into the forest or else he kills everyone. She felt his determination. She knew what he would do. And then, minutes later, she felt his presence move silently across the lawn behind her. She turned to look, but saw nothing. She followed the feeling of him with her eyes as best as she could, but it wasn't an exact science. She only hoped that he could see the love in her eyes, and her silent request that he come back to the castle.

She could have stopped him, but she knew that he would never forgive her. She knew this is what he wanted, what he needed. It was what he was meant to do.

She felt him die.

In the pit of her stomach, in a place that had been warmed by the life-force of Harry Potter for the past 5 years, she felt nothing but emptiness and bitter cold.

He was gone. She knew. She couldn't feel the cold anymore, but she couldn't feel anything else either. She was numb to the world, numb to her own emptiness. And yet, until Hagrid carried him out of the forest, limp and clearly dead, she refused to believe it. But there he was. Dead. Gone. Forever. The keeper of her heart had died and taken it with him.

She'd never screamed so loudly in her entire life.

And now she burned with something different. Rage. Rage like she'd never known. It started in that numb, cold place and grew until she was on fire with it. In some corner of her brain she registered that Harry had disappeared, and Neville had killed the snake with the ever-present Sword of Gryffindor. All she knew was that she needed to fight someone, someone she could destroy, but not too easily.

Bellatrix provided the perfect target. She engaged her in the most violent duel she'd ever had in her life. And she relished in it. Her Harry was gone, she had nothing to lose. Her family would miss her, she knew that, but what was a life without Harry Potter? She couldn't live with that cold emptiness for the rest of her life. Burning rage was better. Death was better. Death stared down at her with the face of Bellatrix Lestrange.

And then Death died, killed by Ginny's own mother in a last effort to protect her daughter, her princess.

Ginny would have to learn to live without him. She would…but there he was, standing in the middle of the Great Hall, wand-to-wand with Voldemort himself. He was back. He wasn't dead. Somehow, he'd defeated death, again. The burning rage inside her had hidden the slow warmth that was Harry's life. Now that her rage was spent, she could feel it, again.

Hope. He was confident. He knew something Voldemort didn't. He destroyed the most evil wizard in all wizarding history with a disarming spell, the simplest of all spells learned at Hogwarts.

Voldemort was dead.

Harry was alive.

Weeks later, and Ginny still hadn't had an opportunity to speak with him. He'd been through a lot. He was healing. She knew he would come to her when he was ready. She'd pass him in the Burrow and feel that wave of warmth, again. If she was lucky, or her timing was right, she'd even catch a flash of that lightning when he looked at her. She knew he'd be okay.

He just needed time to think.

Ginny did, too. That's why she spent her nights at the Burrow staring out her window, trying to pretend she couldn't hear George's crying down the hall, or Harry's pacing in the room above. She pretended Hermione was sleeping, even though she could hear her rolling over in bed. She pretended not to notice when Hermione slipped out in the middle of the night, sometime after Harry stopped pacing, and padded almost silently into Harry and Ron's room. She pretended not to notice when she heard the soft click of the latch on her door as Hermione was sneaking back in every morning, usually minutes before her mum's footsteps were heard coming down the stairs.

It wasn't just Ginny who was silent these days. It was everyone. People moved about the house in silence, They ate meals silently. The silence was so heavy that they could barely breathe. But Ginny knew that things would get better. Things had to get better. One day, the world would be normal, again. There would be laughter and food and family. They would smile at each other, and pick on each other, and fight with each other. But for today, there was only a roaring silence.

And with that final thought, Ginny turned from her window and climbed into bed, letting the rhythm of Harry's pacing lull her to sleep, hoping, as she'd been hoping for the past 23 days, that tomorrow would be a little bit brighter than today.


	2. Chapter 2

It was somewhere around Day 37 that things began to seem normal again.

Hermione had confided to Ron earlier in the week that she was considering leaving her parents in Australia rather than complicate their lives further by tracking them down and bringing them back. She had no idea how she would explain any of this to her parents, anyway. Not to mention the fact that they literally had nothing to come back to. Their dental practice went under without any dentists, and they sold their house when they moved away. Hermione felt that their lives would be better if they just continued to be the people she had made them believe they were.

Ron told her that was a load of bollocks and immediately started planning the trip to retrieve them. Hermione was suitably pleased to see him working so hard for her. So was everyone else. Having something to do seemed to bring first Ron, then everyone else out of their stupor, as it took every last person to organize the Grangers' homecoming. Arthur Weasley returned to his office, threw all his papers on the floor, and converted his desk to a command center. He owled every Australian authority he could contact, inquiring after anyone by the name of Wendell or Monica Wilkins. When his inquiries were met again and again by resistance from the muggle government, Arthur was forced to call in a favor.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named Temporary Minister of Magic, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before the position became permanently his. Luckily for Arthur, he and Kingsley had become quite close during their time with the Order. They had often been partnered together on missions, and Arthur found the man very agreeable. He hoped his presence here today wouldn't complicate their friendship too much.

"Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley, sir?"

"Yes! Yes, yes, sorry. I was a bit distracted."

"Perfectly all right, Mr. Weasley, sir," said the chipper Desk Witch, outside Kingsley's…er…_Minister Shacklebolt's_ office. "The Minister will see you now."

"Right. Good. Thank you." He smiled nervously at the Desk Witch, straightened his shoulders, and turned the knob on the Minister's office door.

At the creak of the hinge, Kingsley lifted his head from the paperwork on his desk and smiled.

"Arthur! Good to see you! I admit, your visit is unexpected, but I'm very glad you've come. Please, sit. You've no idea how wonderful it is to see a face with no deception in it. It seems that everyone who stops by my office these days has some sort of hidden agenda or secret affiliation with Voldemort they're trying to cover up. You, you, I know I can trust. But, I would venture to say you haven't come up just to see an old friend, have you? You'd always be welcome, you know. Anyway, what can I help you with, Arthur?"

"Minister, I—" Kingsley held up a hand and shook his head at Arthur.

"Friend, please. Just Kingsley. We both know it could have been either of us sitting behind this desk, and I refuse to allow my trusted friend to play the subservient fool. 'Kingsley' will do just fine, especially within the confines of this office."

Arthur gave him a warm smile. "Just Kingsley, then. And for the record, I think the best man got the job. I would've been a mess in your position. I just don't have the skill you have with Muggles. In fact, it's a couple of Muggles who bring me here, today. As you may or may not know, Hermione Granger modified her parents' memory and gave them a very strong desire to move to Australia before she and Ron left to help Harry on his mission. Ron has mobilized the family to help retrieve them. They've been living as Muggles named Wendell and Monica Wilkins, so my efforts to go through the usual magical channels have met with very little success. I dug up some of my old contacts in the Australian Muggle Relations office, but they've proven unhelpful. The Muggle government is telling me that I can't retrieve any information about the Wilkins without proof of familial relationship or a government document. Since Hermione can no longer prove her relationship to her parents because of their modified memories and records, I have no way of discovering where they are on the Australian continent. I was hoping you could step in with some ministerial documents and see how far you can get. I know you're busy, and I'm not asking you to do it all today. We just can't really do a whole lot until we know where they are."

The Minister sat in thought for a few minutes, while Arthur sat silently in his chair realizing he'd just asked the Minister of Magic for a huge favor, and hoping it didn't backfire on him.

When minutes were starting to feel like hours and Arthur was beginning to regret asking so much of his powerful friend, Kingsley spoke.

"I think I can help you. It isn't going to be easy, mind you. That's just what I was thinking about. The Australian Ministry of Magic has some pull with the Muggle government, but our Ministry of Magic and theirs have experienced a strained relationship since Fudge's reign. Scrimgeour was too busy letting the ministry hire Death Eaters and begging Harry to be the poster-boy to worry much about diplomacy, especially with such a distant country as Australia. They were unlikely to help us out in the war effort, anyway, being so far off and out of the fighting. Rufus placed them at the absolute bottom of his list of priorities. Repairing the lines of communication have been near the top of _my_ list for weeks, now, but it's been slow going. They just don't trust us, anymore, Arthur. I have managed, however, to develop a contact within the Ministry who would be helpful, I think. I'll contact him tomorrow and see what I can dig up for you. I don't know how fast this will go. The paperwork itself could take weeks, but I promise I'll do the best I can."

"Thank you so much, Minis…er…Kingsley. You have no idea what this is going to mean to Hermione. She was ready to give up on them, but we told her we'd never leave them behind. Er, well, _Ron_ told her, actually. But we all said he was right. But that's not important. We owe you, Kingsley. If you ever need anything that the Minister of Magic can't get on his own, just let me know and I'll be happy to help, if I can."

Kingsley laughed a deep laugh and waved as Arthur exited his office with a smile.

Arthur walked into his kitchen to find it buzzing with life. This was only unusual because it had been uncharacteristically quiet in his kitchen for the past year or so. This kitchen, however, almost resembled the flurry of activity that preceded Bill and Fleur's wedding. The table was spread with papers, cutouts, sketches, different colored squares, while smells of dinner were wafting pleasantly from the oven.

"Good evening, Dear. Did you discover anything productive at work today?" Molly greeted him with a rare smile.

"Not today, Molly, sorry. But I'll tell you what I _did_ do over supper. It smells wonderful, by the way. Is it nearly ready?"

"Nearly. We'll have to do something with all this mess on the table. Harry, Hermione and I were looking over some things earlier and I'm afraid we never got around to cleaning anything up." She made a complicated twirl of her wand and suddenly the papers, color squares and cutouts were organizing themselves into neat piles and sailing into an empty box in the corner. "There. That'll do for now. If you call Ginny down to set the table, I suppose we'll be ready to eat."

"Already here, Mum." Ginny stepped down the last few stairs and entered the kitchen.

"Perfect timing, Ginny dear. Set the table while I finish up the last of dinner, would you please? Then gather the boys and Hermione so we can eat."

Ginny set about her tasks with the ease of long practice. The table was set in a heartbeat and she went about the more difficult task of finding her family. Some of them were easy. George was either sulking in his room, or sulking in the garden. It was a rather dreary day out, so he'd probably be in his room. Ron was wherever Hermione was, and lately that was wherever they thought no one would find them. Since they weren't at all creative, they were likely in Ron's room or the broom shed. Harry was the only real wildcard. The weather didn't seem to faze him, and he was just as likely to be outside on a dreary day like this as he was to be inside. In fact, given the fact that Ron and Hermione were likely in Ron's room, Harry had no choice but to go outside. Well, or watch Hermione and Ron snog each other to death, but she didn't think he'd really consider that an "option". Still, knowing Harry was outside was only partially helpful, as the Burrow's grounds were quite expansive. She stood on the back porch and closed her eyes, finding the warm place that she associated with Harry.

She'd discovered, recently, that if she thought hard enough, she could get a better read on Harry. She could decipher his location, ascertain his basic mood, even tell when he was thinking about her. These weren't new things. What was different was that now she could do it even when they weren't in the same room. She used that ability now as a compass, to point her in the right direction. She felt a pull to her right, and set off across the grounds towards the orchard.

She should have thought of the orchard. Harry always liked to go where he would be less likely to be seen, and the orchard provided plenty of tree-cover for that. Ginny could tell, even from this distance, that Harry was both troubled and calmed today. She didn't have much time to ponder what caused his calmness as she approached his location.

She rounded the corner of an uneven row of trees and saw him. He was sitting with his back against a crooked tree, thumbing through some pages with colorful sketches on them. They looked like design patterns, and Ginny had no idea what he was doing with them. He looked engrossed in whatever he was doing, and didn't even hear her approach.

"Harry?"

Before she could blink his wand was pointed in her face and the papers were scattered all over the ground. She let out a squeak of surprise and jumped backwards. Harry's eyes caught up with his reflexes and he lowered his wand embarrassedly.

"Sorry, Gin. It's a reflex thing, you know?" He smoothed his hair, a telltale sign of nervousness.

"Don't worry about it, Harry. I'd be jumpy, too, I suppose. I am jumpy, actually. Nearly hexed Angelina Johnson today when she walked into the twins, er, I mean, George's shop today. And she didn't even sneak up on me, just walked right in the front door while I had my back turned to take inventory."

"Better to be too prepared than not at all, I guess," Harry said, picking up the last of his papers and standing. "I figure you're here to fetch me for dinner, then?"

"Right, as usual. Mum's in a good mood today. The kitchen smells better than it's smelled since…well, you know, in a long time." It was a casual way of saying since the battle, since Fred died, since the world got turned upside down. But they didn't have to say it. They both knew what she meant. "Are you ready to go inside? I bet Dad's finished gathering the rest of the family by now. We'll be the last back."

"Well I guess we'd better go, then," Harry said. He led the way out of the orchard and Ginny followed a step behind.

When Ginny thought about it, this was the first time she'd really been alone with Harry since that day in May when he killed Voldemort and saved the world. She'd seen him, yes, but they hadn't really talked one-on-one since…well she wasn't sure she could remember exactly when. She hadn't envisioned their first conversation post-battle to be so…normal and casual. They had lots of things to talk about, but it still seemed too raw and too heavy for such a dark time. She was waiting for things to get better, if they ever would.

They arrived back at the Burrow just as George was stumbling down the stairs to the table. They hadn't asked George for much help with Hermione's parents simply because they couldn't think of anything for him to do. Instead, Ginny had taken it upon herself to inventory, stock, and clean the shop to get it ready for George to reopen it. She'd seen how this project of Hermione's had given them something to work towards, and she needed to give George something like that, too. Having a goal was helping them heal. This dinner was proof of that.

Day 41 was the first Weasley dinner they'd had since Bill and Fleur's wedding. They'd eaten, of course, but it was usually more of a necessity than a pleasure. Molly would make something and then as they got hungry they'd come down, eat, and go back upstairs to mope. Molly couldn't do anything about it because she was doing the exact same thing. Only now that they were feeling productive again, feeling human again, did Molly reinstate family dinners.

They sat around the table with an odd mixture of nervousness and comfort. They were still the same family, almost, but there was an obvious empty seat between George and Arthur, and nobody quite knew what to talk about. Molly set the last of the dinner down on the table and took her seat.

"Well, go ahead. Eat!"

Ron wasted no time digging his fork into the food, and with a small chuckle at Ron's ever-present appetite, the rest of them began to eat, too. And it was almost normal. After a little bit of small talk, Arthur decided to share the story of his meeting with Kingsley. His news was met with an explosion of noise from the whole table.

"Oh Dad that's great! I just know—"

"If anyone can get it done, Kingsley can. He's never stopped short—"

"Mr. Weasley, thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to—"

"Arthur, dear, that's wonderful! How was the Minister? Was he happy to see—"

"Slow down! Slow down! Kingsley's doing wonderful, and he'd be appalled to hear you all calling him 'Minister'. Practically threw me out of his office when I tried it. I'm sure he'll do his best to help in any way he can, but we must remember he _is _a busy man, now. I don't expect him to have any instantaneous success, but he seemed to think he could help us. In the meantime, we need to begin setting things up so they have a place to stay when they come back. We'd be happy to have them here, but I just don't think they'd be comfortable around all this magic for any length of time. I don't know much about Muggle real estate, but I'm sure we could find someone to help us figure it out. Do you have any idea where they'll want to live, Hermione?"

"Actually, Mr. Weasley, I think I may be able to help," Harry said quietly from his seat next to Ron. He smoothed his hair. Nervous, again. "See, I've been thinking. I have a house. It isn't much to look at right now, and it's certainly much scarier than the Burrow, but it's empty, which we can't say for the Burrow, and it's in London, which is a better place to open a new dental practice then Ottery St. Catchpole, and it's not a place I'm really ever looking forward to occupying again. I don't know what kind of curses were placed on it when the Death Eaters got in, but I'm sure whatever damage they caused we could reverse. We'd need Bill to look it over and see if it's safe before we go in, of course, but I think we could fix it up and let the Grangers live there. I already spoke to Hermione and Mrs. Weasley about it, and they helped me draw up some rough sketches of how the rooms could look with a little redecoration. I know it probably isn't exactly what The Grangers are looking for, but I'd be happy to let them live there as long as they want, or until they've made enough money to buy a new house. I'm just looking for a way to help, Mr. Weasley. After Bill looks the place over, I'll take whoever wants to go and we'll get started on the remodel."

"Harry! That sounds like a wonderful idea. I hadn't even thought of that. I'll contact Bill tomorrow and see when he's available to look at the house."

"That's brilliant, Harry. I understand those drawings you had in the orchard, now. Is it okay if I see them?"

"Oh! Yeah, I forgot they were still in my pocket, actually. Hang on," he pulled the slightly crumpled papers out of his pocket and handed them to Ginny. "There you go. There were more on the table, earlier. These are just a few I was considering."

She looked down at the drawings in her hand. Harry was right when he said "rough sketches". Neither Harry, Hermione, or her mum could draw very well. But even with their rudimentary artistry, Ginny could see the potential beauty of the home. They'd chosen light shades of blue, green and yellow for the various rooms in the house, with sheer white curtains and rich mahogany furniture. It was the perfect balance of light and warmth. She pictured these rooms in her head, transformed and brightened by their upcoming renovations. It was a place any person would be happy to call home.

"I want to help," she said. "This is…it's just amazing. I want to be a part of it."

Harry looked at her and smiled. She felt a rush of warmth and sizzle of electricity, stronger than she'd felt it since the wedding.

"I'd love to have your help, Ginny. I know you'd be brilliant at it. I've no idea how to do any of this stuff, so once we get the place cleared you and Hermione can take the lead. Maybe we'll even do some of it the Muggle way, just for fun."

"Sounds like a plan, Harry." Their eyes met and they shared a smile. There was the warmth again, and that electric spark. His eyes danced with excitement about his new project, and, Ginny hoped, the prospect of getting to work closely with her.

Their moment snapped when Ron reached across Harry to get another dinner roll, severing the link between Harry and Ginny. She shook her head and looked back at her plate.

They passed the rest of their dinner talking excitedly about the plans for Grimmauld Place. Nobody noticed when George slipped out to return to his room. He alone felt, well, alone and useless. Slowly, the rest of the Weasley's drifted off to bed, Ron and Hermione following very close behind each other, until only Harry and Ginny were left poring over the pictures and paint squares, trying to come up with the best possible design.

When Ginny yawned for the third time in five minutes, she finally decided it was probably time to go to bed.

"I'm sorry, Harry. But I've got to go to bed. I can't even tell the difference between ice blue and glacier blue, anymore. We're not going to get anything else done tonight. We'll look at it again in the morning, okay? Goodnight, Harry." Ginny stood to go, pushing the papers in front of her back into a neat pile and stacking them next to Harry. "Don't stay up too late, okay? You want to be able to get started as soon as Bill tells you it's alright. That'll be difficult if you're still asleep, don't you think?"

"Alright, Ginny. Thanks. I'll head up in a minute. Just want to finish sorting through these colors. They got mixed up earlier when Ron was looking through them, so I want to put them back in order. I'll see you tomorrow, Gin."

"See you tomorrow, Harry," she said as she walked around the table to the stairs. Harry felt her place a small kiss on the top of his head and whisper a soft "Goodnight" as she passed by, and then, she was gone. He sat still for a moment, fighting the desire to follow her to her room and show her what a real goodnight kiss was supposed to be like. But that would be inappropriate. It was too soon. He'd wait until things started to get better. He didn't even know where they stood, these days. It didn't change how he felt, but he knew they weren't ready to start their relationship again. They had more important things to worry about, right now.

When he felt he was under control, he finished sorting the last of the paint squares, and stacked them neatly on the table. He climbed the stairs and fell straight into bed. For the first time in over a month, Harry fell asleep in an instant, dreaming only of Ginny Weasley.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: True story, my dog chewed through my computer charger. It took me forever to get it replaced (it's a VERY long story), so I only just now have access to my completed chapters, again. As a reward for your patience, I'll be uploading ANOTHER chapter later today. Thanks for reading and reviewing!  
**

Harry was awoken by the light of the sun shining in Ron's window. He couldn't remember the last time the sun had woken up before him. He was usually sitting in the garden, watching it slowly turn the sky pink in the earliest hours of the morning. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to sleep longer, but the nightmares made it rather difficult. This was the first morning in recent memory that he'd slept a whole night without a single nightmare.

He did remember having some pleasant dreams about a certain female Weasley, however. In fact, the thought of those dreams could make his whole face flush bright red. He still didn't think it was the right time to consider restarting their relationship, but he was looking forward to the time when it was.

Just because he wasn't ready to date Ginny again, didn't mean he couldn't still talk to her. He got out of bed and went downstairs to see if he could find her. The smell of fried eggs drew him to the kitchen, instead. He had hoped to find Ginny standing over the stove, but it was Hermione who was hovering over a simmering pan. She heard Harry coming down the stairs and turned to greet him.

"Morning, Harry. I was wondering if you were ever going to get up. Would you like some eggs? I've got toast in the oven, too, if you'd like."

"Both sound fabulous, Hermione, thank you." Harry opened the cabinet and pulled down a plate. Hermione slid the eggs onto Harry's waiting plate and cracked two more into her skillet. Harry deftly plucked two slices of toast from the oven, and took a seat at the table.

"The eggs are great, as usual, Hermione. Burnt the toast a bit, though, don't you think?" Harry said as he examined his slightly-blackened bread.

Hermione squealed and pulled the pan from the oven.

"Sorry, Harry. I'm not used to cooking it in the oven, you know? At home we use a toaster, and when we were out looking for the Horcruxes, I used the fire. When we had bread, that is."

"Don't worry about it. This is still better than mushrooms." Hermione smiled sheepishly. "Hey, by the way, have you seen Ginny this morning? I was hoping to talk to her, but I'm not sure where she is."

Hermione cast a quick glance around as if she were looking for someone. Seeing no one but the two of them, she said, "She's at George's shop with Angelina Johnson. Before last night, she didn't really have anything to do to bring Mum and Dad home, so she took it upon herself to get the shop ready for business, again. She's hoping that when George sees it restored, he'll get a little life back. I'm not sure how well it'll work, but it's good to hope, anyway. Apparently Angelina saw her there, one day, and volunteered her help. She's just finishing up the last of the inventory today, then she'll be back."

"I had no idea. That's a brilliant plan. Why is she doing this alone, though? She could've asked me for help. I didn't have much to do until yesterday, either."

"Well, you've been rather…distracted lately. We all have. I think she wanted to do this by herself. If Angelina hadn't found her out, she would likely still be going alone. She really wants to keep it a secret, too, Harry. Only Mrs. Weasley and I know she's been going. I wouldn't have known if I hadn't seen her flooing out one day and heard her destination. Since then, I've been keeping Ron away during her scheduled arrival and departure times. Everyone else just thinks she's been going off alone on the grounds somewhere like the rest of us have."

Harry pondered this development for a moment. He knew Ginny was great at helping others, but he couldn't fathom how she thought she could put the Twins' store back together on her own. From what he'd heard, it was completely ransacked shortly before the Battle of Hogwarts, and he knew it would take ages to put back together.

"I'm going to go see if she needs any help. You'll know where to find me, if anyone asks. Floo the shop if Mr. Weasley calls with news about Bill and the house. I'd like to go over with him and see it as soon as possible."

Hermione didn't have time to protest before he was throwing Floo Powder in the fire and whisking off to Diagon Alley. She didn't know what she would have said even if she did have time to protest. There was little she could do to stop him doing what he wanted, and frankly she didn't have much desire to, anyway. This was the first time Harry had been sociable in months, and whatever had caused it, she wasn't going to be the one to stop it. She only hoped he'd be safe and cautious.

For his part, Harry was glad that Fred and George had installed a fireplace and connected it to the floo network. As he was whizzing past a network of fireplaces, he suddenly remembered that this was the first time since he defeated Voldemort that he'd been out of the Burrow. He didn't relish being seen by a photographer in his state. He hadn't shaved since the battle, and he hadn't showered yet, today. Besides all that, it would completely ruin the secrecy that Ginny had worked so hard to maintain.

Suddenly, he came to a screeching halt, and tumbled out of the grate onto a soft carpet. He silently thanked Ginny for having the forethought to put down such a soft landing spot, though upon closer examination of the lurid colors and patters, he considered that it may have already been there when he got there. Whether it was Ginny or the Twins didn't matter, though. He was thankful either way. He was rubbish at floo travel, and at least today he knew he wouldn't go back home with bruised knees.

The fireplace was in the stock room, and as he looked around he was amazed at what he saw. All the products had been placed in labeled boxes and stacked in neat rows. Each box had a number on it, to indicate the number of items in the box, and also a small number in the corner, to tell how many boxes of a certain product they had. Clearly, Ginny had been busy. It was a remarkable amount of progress for the couple weeks she'd been at it.

The closer to the store he got, however, the more he saw how much work was left. Ginny must've started from the floo and worked forward, possibly because that's all she could get to at the time. Gadgets and broken boxes covered a little more than half the remaining stock room, and a neat stack of boxes was waiting to be filled.

There was one whole corner that Ginny hadn't touched. He surmised this was where the twins kept their potions, as everything in it was covered in a nasty, rainbow colored ooze, and the area was covered in a sickly haze. He wisely kept his distance as he climbed the stairs into the main store.

As he opened the door at the top of the stairs, he saw Ginny standing with her back to him, clutching a clipboard, and counting items on the shelf while chewing on the end of her quill. It was a beautiful picture to Harry. Even in jeans and a t-shirt he could see her curves. Her singular focus gave her face a relaxed, but determined look. She must have been doing some hard work, too, because her face was slightly flushed and her hair had broken loose from her ponytail and now hung slightly in front of her face.

Not wanting to disrupt this peaceful scene, but knowing it was a necessity if he was to offer any help, he started to call out to her. Before he could utter a word, though, she turned and looked at him with a sly smile.

"Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare or say hello?"

"Er…hi. How'd you know I was here?"

"You have a very distinctive breathing pattern, Harry Potter. Not to mention you walk as if you're trying to stomp holes in the floor." Not that Ginny ever needed any of those things to tell when Harry was near. She knew the second he came out of the floo. She couldn't imagine telling him that, though. At least not now.

"Oh. I see. Well I'll try to be sneakier next time, then."

"You can try," she offered with that knowing smile, again. That sparkle in her eye was driving Harry crazy. But this wasn't what he came for. He banished that thought to the back of his head, and asked her how he could help.

Ginny's self-assigned task of the day was to finish inventory of the items on the shelves in the store. She had one whole section, however, that was completely blocked by an overturned display that must have weighed nearly 35 kilos. Ginny had tried moving it, earlier, but had only succeeded in completely destroying her ponytail and working up a nice sweat. Angelina wasn't coming in today, and she knew she couldn't do it on her own. She'd decided to just finish this last shelf, and go home, but Harry's arrival had changed those plans.

With the two of them, they managed to get the display moved out of the way. Harry did the bulk of the work, muscles flexing visibly through his t-shirt. He wasn't bulky or overly strong, by any means, but he'd grown into some muscles during their time apart, and she found that she rather liked his newfound strength.

They put the displaced items back in their places on the shelves and set about counting them, chatting little but enjoying the comfortable silence. They were nearly finished when Ginny's quill began to vibrate and ding loudly.

"Oh! There must be a floo call. Hermione charmed my quill for me so I'd know when someone wanted to talk to me even when I'm away from the fire. It has a different ding based on who's calling. This call is from Hermione."

"Cleverest witch of her age. I don't doubt it for a second. I think this call is for me, though, actually. I told her to floo me when she heard from your dad about the house."

They stepped off the last few stairs and began weaving through the rows of boxes, to the fire. Hermione's head was looking around impatiently as they rounded the last corner.

"Finally! I've been here for _ages_ Ginny! What took you guys so long to come down?" Her smile was a little too innocent to be, well, _innocent_, but they both ignored the insinuation.

"We were busy, Hermione. And it's a rather large shop, you know."

"Right. Well it doesn't matter, anyway. I just called to tell you, Harry, that Bill and Mr. Weasley are on their way over to Grimmauld Place, now. They'd like you to apparate over and join them as soon as you can. Bill seems to think it won't take long to check the place out. Most of the curses will have expired when the wizard who cast them died. Ron and I are heading over as soon as I finish talking to you. Mrs. Weasley's going to stay here with George, I think. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah! That's great. I'll be over in just a second. See you there."

"See you, Harry. Bye Ginny."

"Bye, Hermione."

Harry turned to Ginny and handed over his clipboard before drawing in a deep breath. He was looking forward to transforming his house into something the Grangers would love, but this initial visit was going to be particularly tough. He hadn't let anyone know how much it affected him, but he was pretty shaken up inside.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Ginny said, placing her hand on Harry's shoulder. Her gaze told him that she understood exactly what was going on in his head, though he couldn't imagine how.

"You still have inventory to do. I don't want to pull you away from your project just so you can start on mine. I think I'll be okay."

"Harry, don't be silly. This isn't going to be easy on you. This house holds too many memories. Inventory can wait. I'm not going to get the shop open today or the next day, or for several days after. You haven't even seen how much work is left to do on the outside of the store, and I haven't started the office area or that nasty potions spill yet. Delaying a few hours isn't going to make much difference."

Harry looked into her determined gaze and realized there was nothing he could do to change her mind.

"Alright. Come along, then. Do you know how to apparate?" She shook her head, no. "That's alright. You can come side-along with me. I'm not as good at it as Hermione, but I think we'll make it in one piece. Maybe this summer I'll teach you how. That rubbish way they teach you in school is really only good if you've got loads of time to think before you hop away somewhere. That's hardly practical when you're running from Death Eaters. Are you ready?" She placed her clipboard on top of a pile of boxes and took a tentative hold of Harry's arm, feeling a sting of electricity as her skin met his.

He glanced down at her before grabbing her tightly around the waist and spinning away with the sharp pop of apparation. Her head whirled with the combined feeling of being compressed through a tube while being wrapped tightly in Harry's strong arms. Her ears registered another sharp pop and she felt the compression ease. She opened her eyes to see the battered front of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with her father, Bill, Ron, and Hermione standing anxiously on the sidewalk. With a blush, she began to extricate herself from Harry's strong grip, and looked at Hermione, who had her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline.

Harry muttered something about not wanting her to get separated, and dropped his arms to his sides, smoothing his hair in his telltale nervous manner.

The awkward scene was interrupted by Bill's eager voice, "Well. Shall we?"

With Bill leading the way, the group approached the front of Grimmauld Place. Raising his wand, Bill began to chant a series of spells. As he chanted, spheres of color appeared around the house and grounds until it was surrounded by a shining white light. Suddenly there was a loud squelching sound, and the bright white sphere disappeared.

"It's done. All clear. I've pulled all the curses out, as far as I can tell. They weren't very sophisticated, actually. A level one or two curse breaker could have done this on a training mission. Everything should be clear. You can go on in, now, though I do still advise caution. They were Death Eaters, remember? They can be pretty tricky."

Since it was his house, Harry knew that he'd need to go in first, he just didn't know if he'd be able to. The last time he was here, he was running for his life. What would it be like, inside? How would he react to being in this nightmarish place, again? He felt a small, smooth hand slip into his and give it a squeeze. Ginny's show of support gave him the strength he needed to push open the front gate, walk carefully across the lawn, and finally enter his "home", again. With a loud creak, the door swung slowly open.


	4. Chapter 4

They waited with bated breath to see if anything was going to happen. When, after several moments, nothing did, they all breathed a sigh of relief and continued inside.

Harry lit his wand as he entered, and the scene he saw made him glad Ginny still had her hand in his. Bellatrix and her band of merry Death Eaters had utterly destroyed the place. Ransacked it. They'd blasted holes in the stairs and walls, slashed through the portraits, and broken all the furniture. It's not that Harry was particularly attached to any of these things, but they were a part of Sirius's past, and they were iconic, in a way. He knew they were likely going to throw everything out, anyway, but he wanted to do it on his own terms, not because some Death Eaters decided to destroy it just because it belonged to Harry Potter_._

The only positive thing about the Death Eaters' attack was that they'd somehow managed to rip down the painting of Sirius's Mum. Her hateful screeching was something they'd never miss.

Pinpricks of light moved around the house in pairs, as they searched out the rooms together. They didn't trust the floors upstairs, as they appeared to have several large holes. They couldn't really get up there, anyway, as the holes in the stairs were impassable. Most of the lamps had been broken, but they lit whatever lights they could find on their way around. Hermione and Ron cleaned a thick layer of grime off the front windows, and they let in considerably more light. After several minutes of exploring the ground floor, they met back in the entrance hall.

All eyes were on Harry, again, as they waited for him to tell them what to do. Honestly, Harry didn't quite know what to do, himself. The destruction was even worse than he'd imagined, and he didn't have much experience with handy-magic. He could fix some of the small things by hand, thanks to the Dursley's, but much of this was far beyond his abilities. He just didn't know how they were going to make this work for Hermione.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't think we can fix it. The house is…well it's complete rubbish. I mean, you can see it. I don't know what to do. This is way beyond me. I can't fix it." He stood there, looking around his disaster of a house until Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

"Mate, sometimes you can be as thick as me. D'you think we expected _you_ to do all the fixing? None of us are daft enough to think you actually know anything about handy-magic. Lucky for you, you've got the two experts right here. Who d'you think built the Burrow? Dad did most of it, but when Bill got older he helped Dad expand it so there'd be room for all of us. Yeah, there's a lot to do, but that doesn't mean you should give up on it."

"As much as it kills me to say this, Harry, my idiot brother is actually right," Ginny said from beside him. "Did you really think you were going to have to do this alone?"

"Well it is my house. I just thought that, you know, since Mr. Weasley and Bill have work, and everyone else is busy with other things, there wouldn't be anyone left to help me."

"Harry, let me tell you something," Bill began, "this family has been through a lot lately. That's not news to you. What you may not be aware of, however, is exactly how we all feel about you and Hermione. Both of you are our family. You're like an extra brother and sister that we just didn't meet until later. Hermione's family is missing, and since Hermione is our family, _her_ family is a part of that, too. Do you follow?"

Harry gave a shaky nod.

"Good. Now, when something happens in our family, we don't rest until we've sorted it out. I think you know this. Dad and I have taken time off work for this project. Kingsley gave him special permission to be absent for as long as it takes. Gringotts was less accommodating, but it turns out they need me as much as I need them, and they grudgingly let me have my time off.

We're here to help. As far as I'm concerned, this house is the only thing we really have going for us, right now. We're at a stalemate with the retrieval plans until we hear from Kingsley, so right now we just need to start working on this home. This place is our best bet. Yes, it needs work, but we need something to work on, too. This project…it's helping us deal with our losses. We all miss him, F-Fred. But having something to work towards makes us feel more alive. You need this as much as the rest of us. We're not giving this up, no matter how much work it is."

Bill's speech had left him with tear tracks on his face. As Harry looked around at the rest of the Weasley's, he saw they all had watery eyes and shaky smiles. Harry was surprised to find his eyes tearing up, as well. Bill was right; he did need this. He needed it for the same reasons the rest of them did. Doing something productive and helpful made him feel like a person, again. He didn't have to think about all those horrible things that happened last year or the pain of losing nearly everyone he loved. When he was focused on something, rather than left alone with his thoughts, things seemed a little less bleak.

He still didn't know how to even begin repairing the house, but he knew it needed to be done. For Sirius. This was his house, and he wouldn't want Harry to just leave it behind. Nothing would have made him happier than to know that there was a happy family living in it and enjoying it. Remus, too, would just be proud to see him finish this project. He started it, now he had to finish it. He could only imagine what Moony would say if he started it and then just left it to rot. He would do it. He had to. And somehow, he knew that if he did, he'd feel so much better.

Ginny gave his hand another squeeze, and Harry came back to reality. The Weasley's were waiting on an answer.

"Let's get some of these things cleared out. It's nearly dinnertime and I want to say we accomplished something when we go back home."

The Weasley's and Hermione all smiled at him. Arthur Weasley smiled and said, "Sure thing, Harry. Let's get started."

They spent the next three hours clearing debris from the house, and finding creative ways to let in more light. When it finally got too dark for them to be able to work, they called it quits and went back to the Burrow to eat a wonderful supper and go to bed.

They woke bright and early the next morning, ready to get started on the house. They hadn't connected the floo, yet, so they each had to apparate over on their own. Despite getting to bed earlier than everyone else, he was the last to wake up, again, and so was the last to leave. He was just about to apparate out when he heard his name.

"Harry! Harry! Wait! I'm coming with you!"

"Gin? I thought you'd be going to the shop today. I told you yesterday, your projects are just as important as mine."

"And I agree with you, but there's no reason I can't divide my time. Besides, Angelina's at the shop today, and she doesn't need me to tell her what to do. I, however, do need _you_ to take me to the house, because there's no floo there, yet. Once you get it connected, I can just floo over from the shop or from here, and go back and forth as I choose."

"Well, that's a fair point, I suppose. Though, I should really get started teaching you how to apparate as soon as possible. I know you aren't 17 yet, but the Ministry is hardly concerned with underage magic right now, anyway."

"No, I don't expect it matters now. They'd have a pretty hard time tracking me down, anyway. Dad says they're really short on Aurors. They didn't have a great leader after Kingsley went into hiding, so most of them got picked off one by one during the war. They're trying to rebuild the department, but Dad says it's slow. Nobody really wants to be an auror right now."

"What about you? Do you want to be an auror? I'm sure Kingsley would hire you on the spot if you wanted to. You're brilliant at defensive magic, and your jinxes and hexes are better than any I've ever seen. Even if he made you take an entrance test or something, I'm sure you could pass. You'd make a scary auror, Gin. I wouldn't want to cross you."

"I thought about it, especially after Dad told me they needed so many, you know? But I just don't think it's for me. Not after all the battles I've already faced. Besides, I'd rather do something fun, like flying. I'm thinking of trying out for Quidditch when the leagues start back up, again."

"That's brilliant! You'd be fantastic. You're right, that's a great job for you. I can see it now, 'Ginny Weasley, star Chaser'. It suits you. What about school, though? Are you going back?"

"I don't think I could go back to Hogwarts. It's not the same place, anymore. There was too much pain, there, even from the beginning. I couldn't do it. I couldn't go through the routine, knowing how much sorrow still lingered there. I couldn't walk past the place where F-Fr-Fred died on my way to class everyday. I couldn't go into the Great Hall without seeing all their bodies. F-Fred, Tonks, Lupin, C-Colin. It's just too much, Harry. I couldn't…"

Ginny collapsed into tears and buried her face in her hands. Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her for the second time in two days. This time was different, though. She burrowed her face into his shoulder and sobbed while Harry shed silent tears into her hair. When it seemed she had cried all she could, she pulled back and wiped her face with her hands.

"Oh, look what I've done. You're shirt's all wet. I'm sorry, Harry. I'll go fetch you another one, if you want."

Harry placed his finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. Ginny could see the tear tracks still wet on his face and feel his sadness in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay, Gin. Really." He offered her a small smile and waved his wand at the wet spot on his shoulder.

She giggled. "Oh. Right. Magic. I forgot. Silly me."

Harry laughed, the first laugh he'd had in ages. _It feels good to laugh, _he thought. With a smile on his face he pulled Ginny into his arms again. He smelled the familiar scent of her perfume and felt the soft skin of her arms. Something stirred deep within his chest. The monster was awakening, again.

"Come on, Gin. Let's go to the house," he said, "but you've got to hold on tighter this time. I don't want to risk losing you."

"Sure thing, Harry," said Ginny, a little unsteadily as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Harry was practically electrocuting her and that place in the pit of her stomach was nearly on fire. She didn't think the time was quite right to worry about their relationship just yet, but if Harry kept these feelings up, she might not have much choice but to jump him where he stood. All these raw emotions combined with such close physical contact were really doing a number on her patience.

The sharp squeeze of apparation drove all other thoughts from her mind, as Ginny focused solely on her connection with Harry and arriving at Grimmauld Place in one piece. The pressure subsided, and she felt her feet on solid ground, again. She and Harry untangled themselves, took each others' hands and strode purposefully into the house.

"Hey, mate! 'Bout time you got here. 'Mione's had me cleaning for _hours_ already. And she's working up some sort of duty chart on the table in the kitchen. You know Hermione. I don't recommend going in there just yet, though. She's a little touchy right now."

"What did you do to her, Ron?"

"Ginny! That's unfair! How do you know _I_ did something? What if it was _her_, huh? What would you have said, then?"

"Here's a tip, Ron. It's _always_ your fault. Whether it is or isn't, it is. Do you understand? I'd better go sort this out. I'll see you later, Harry."

She headed towards the kitchen, leaving Ron and Harry alone.

"Mental, that one," Ron said. "I really don't know what you see in her. 'Whether it is or it isn't, it is'? What in the bloody hell is _that _supposed to mean? Makes no ruddy sense, does it?"

"I honestly don't know, Ron. Forget about it for now. Come on, lets get to work. What have you been working on this morning?"

"The Tapestry Room, mostly. Er, sorry, I'm supposed to be calling it the 'sitting room' now. Anyway, the tapestry is about the only thing they didn't tear apart, it's bloody impossible to pull down. Hermione and I only managed to get corner of one wall down before she left to make her charts and stuff. I didn't get much done after that. It'll go faster with both of us working on it, though."

They walked into the Tapestry Room, as they called it, and turned to the cloth-covered walls. Ron was right. Bellatrix and her crew had left it virtually untouched. There were a few new-looking burn marks over some names he barely recognized, but for the most part, it was just as abominable as it had been when Sirius lived here. He wanted to put Sirius's name back on and burn the rest off. They were the ones who didn't deserve to be called "pure" blooded.

"Burn it." Harry whispered.

"Sorry, what? Didn't catch that."

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking. I wish we could burn it. I wish we could find a way to burn all their names out and leave nothing but a pile of ash. But I don't see how we could burn the tapestry without destroying the walls, too. I don't fancy burning the whole house down."

Hermione and Ginny came around the corner from the other room.

"You can just use a modified Incendio One of the books I took with us to read while we were on the hunt had all kinds of modifications for common spells, especially Incendio. Incendio Partis will only burn a part of what you're targeting. If you want to be really specific, just say whatever it is you want to burn. So, for this, you'd say Incendion Partis Tapestry. The tapestry would burn but the fire wouldn't spread to anything else."

"You're bloody brilliant, Hermione, do you know that?"

Hermione laughed a little girly giggle as her cheeks began to turn pink, "Yes, Ron. So I've heard."

"Not that I want to interrupt this flirt-fest or anything, but I do actually have a question."

Hermione sighed and turned to Ginny, inviting her to ask her oh-so-important question.

"What about the smoke?"

"Well that's easy! Just have somebody use their wand to blow it up the chimney."

"Oh. Right then. I guess it sounds like a good plan."

They divided themselves into two pairs, Ron with Hermione and Harry with Ginny. They worked steadily and slowly, checking often to make sure the wall wasn't catching fire. Much to their surprise, the Tapestry burned off clean, leaving very old and faded, but perfectly undamaged wallpaper behind it. They did have one mishap, which drew the attention of Mr. Weasley and Bill. After they explained that it was simply Ron's lack of focus causing the smoky haze (he'd gotten rather distracted looking at Hermione and hadn't paid attention to where he was sending the smoke), the two men had a good laugh at Ron's expense, and then stuck around to help finish up the last of the tapestry removal.

Harry felt a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that those evil muggle-haters got what they deserved. They swept up the ashes and threw them unceremoniously in the trashcan. That's what the Black family meant to Harry. They were all a load of rubbish. _Except for Sirius_, he thought, _and Tonks, and Andromeda, too, I suppose._ He couldn't have cared less about the rest of them, though.

Then there was Teddy. Technically Teddy's last name was Lupin, but he had the Black blood through Tonks's line, so he belonged on the tapestry, too. Harry hadn't thought about Teddy in ages. In fact, it wasn't until just now that he even remembered he _had_ a godson.

"Fat lot of good I'm doing him if I can't even remember he exists."

"'Fat lot of good' you're doing _who_, Harry?"

"Oh, sorry. I guess I've gotten used to thinking out loud. I didn't actually mean to say that. It's Teddy, though. I'd completely forgotten about him until today. He's a Black, too, you know. His name should have been on that tapestry. That's what made me think of him. I just can't believe I forgot him, Gin. He's…he hasn't got anyone except me and Andromeda. He'll never know his mum or his dad. He won't have anyone to tell him about them. They'll lock him up. They won't like his magic. They'll make him wear Dudley's old clothes. They'll—"

"Harry, stop! Stop! He's not with the Dursley's, Harry. He's with his grandmum, and she loves him. She's magic, too. She's not going to hate his magic. She won't even hate his Metamorphmagus abilities. Tonks was her child, too, remember? It's okay. Calm down. Shhhhhh. It's okay."

Ginny had come over to stand in front of Harry, drawing his eyes to hers. She ran her hands down his arms and over his shoulders as she spoke, calming him with her touch. As she calmed him down, he layed his head on her shoulder, and she felt warm tears soak into her shirt.

She knew that Harry saw a lot of his own situation in Teddy's life. They were both orphans. They both lost everything because of Voldemort. He just wanted to give Teddy what he never had, himself. He wanted to give him a _godfather_, someone to look up to who wasn't also in charge of punishing you. In the short time that Harry had known Sirius, his life had changed dramatically. He suddenly had someone to confide in, someone to bounce ideas off of, someone who always had Harry's best interests at heart. Teddy needed that, too. He had a loving grandmum, but he needed a man, too. Someone who would treat him like a boy and not coddle him, as grandmum's tend to do.

Harry pulled away slowly, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hands.

"Now it's you who needs a dry shirt," Harry said.

"Don't worry about it. I know this wizard, see. He's not all that bright, but this morning he showed me a bit of clever magic that'll dry this right up."

Ginny waved her wand at her shoulder, and smiled at Harry, teasing out a small smile in return.

"It's been a teary day, today, I guess. I mean, this morning you cried on my shoulder. This afternoon I cried on yours. Hardly seems like a fun way to spend your day."

"It isn't always about fun, Harry. Crying is important. Mum says it helps your body release tension, which is something we all need right now. I don't think this will be the last of the tears, unfortunately."

"You women. Always thinking crying helps everything. I swear, by the time you're done with me I'll be a blubbering arse, crying over everything. I'd rather release tension some other way. Like…flying! Gin! We should go flying later!"

"I don't know if you've noticed or not, Harry, but we're all kind of busy around here. I don't know that there will be much time for flying."

"Pardon me, miss. I thought I was talking to Ginny Weasley, aspiring Quidditch player extraordinaire. My mistake. I guess I'll just have to go find someone better to fly with."

"Oh, ha, ha, Harry. Laugh while you can. As soon as I finish up with George's shop I'll wipe that cheeky smile off your face. There _is_ no one better than me, Potter, and you bloody well know it!"

"Trust me, Gin. I know there's no one that could even compare to you."

The burning in her stomach and that look in his eyes told her they weren't just talking about Quidditch, anymore.

"Well, there, then. I'm the best. You admit it. I'll still be the best when I'm finished with George's shop. You can wait. Besides, you have things to do, too, Mr., 'Let's completely remodel my house before Hermione's parent's get back'. You've got your work cut out for you."

Harry took a step forward, closing the gap between them and taking a firm hold on her arm. He'd gotten taller over his absence, as well as stronger, and Ginny found she had to crane her neck to look into his eyes.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to wait for you, Gin. I just think we all have different ways of healing."

With that, he bent down and placed a burning kiss on her cheek, before turning and walking swiftly out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Ginny hadn't slept properly in weeks. It wasn't because she was still suffering from that same silent insomnia. Oh, no. It was all because of Harry-bloody-Potter.

Nothing had changed between them since their conversation (if you could even call it that) a few weeks ago, but the spark between them had grown until Ginny could barely stand to be in a room with him, anymore. Lately, it hadn't seemed to matter if they were even in the same _house_. Ginny had taken to spending more time at George's shop, especially since they were still in the "rebuilding" phase at Grimmauld Place. Her slight build made it difficult for her to do all the heavy-lifting required to fix the place. Once her Dad and Bill had gotten the stairs repaired, they had to rebuild all the floors upstairs as well as most of the interior walls. Magic leveled the field for Ginny a bit, as she could lighten things and move them easier, but her Dad wanted to do much of it "the Muggle way", so she was reduced to passing hammers and nails to the men. Her time was better served at George's.

That wasn't to say she'd given up on Grimmauld Place, entirely. She still went by at least once a day, for a bit, if only to check up on them and see what was going on. She'd made _loads_ of progress at the shop, though. She and Angelina had finally tackled the potions mess, and had finished that up just yesterday. The stock room was sorted out again, and they were putting the finishing touches on the exterior. They still had some work to do on the inside, but they were planning on showing it to George sometime in the next couple of weeks.

Because they were both so busy, her time with Harry had been limited. They still talked when they could, but they didn't get much opportunity. It wasn't that they were avoiding each other, because they certainly weren't. They just didn't get to see much of each other.

It didn't mean Ginny wasn't on his mind, though. Certainly, not. While Ginny couldn't feel him when they were working so far apart, every time they came back to the Burrow and he caught sight of her, she could practically hear his thoughts. It seemed that as he was recovering, so were his feelings for Ginny. She didn't mind, of course, except that he often dreamt about Ginny, which caused those currents of electricity even when he wasn't conscious. Since they'd been getting stronger and stronger, they often woke Ginny up in the middle of the night. When it was warm and clear outside, she tried taking a blanket out to the yard and sleeping under the stars, but it seemed that it wasn't enough distance to keep the sparks away. After a week of this, she gave it up as a lost cause and accepted that she was going to have some sleepless nights until she and Harry let off some of the tension.

She didn't think that would happen any time soon, either, especially if she left it up to Harry. They were both waiting for the "right time", but the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the "right time" may never come. Not to mention the fact that they were both clearly emotionally ready for a relationship. Harry might still be nervous, but if she waited for the boy to get over his nervousness she'd be waiting for the rest of her life. Admittedly, they were both far too busy right now to add a relationship into the mix, but after she gave the shop back to George, she'd have a little more time to herself. Angelina had already said she'd help George run the place, so she wasn't worried about leaving him there on his own, or anything like that. But there was still so much to do, even without the shop. Would she have time for a relationship? Harry just made things so much more complicated.

Ginny sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, freeing it from the loose braid she'd thrown it into when Harry's dreams had first woken her up. She yawned and glanced at her watch. Four-bloody-thirty. Spectacular.

She looked around for something to do and caught sight of a book Hermione had left lying around. Ginny had seen Hermione poring over it earlier, and curiously reached for it. _Law Practices and Customs of Witches and Wizards in Northern England from 463 B.C. to 59 B.C._, it said on the cover. Hermione read the most absolutely boring books Ginny had ever heard of.

_Maybe it's for the best Hermione's books are boring. It'll put me right to sleep,_ Ginny thought. She opened to a random page and began reading. As she expected, the book was fantastically dull, and she soon found her eyelids getting heavier and falling shut.

BANG!

The heavy book hit the floor as Ginny shot into the air. _Harry-BLOODY-Potter and your stupid DREAMS! Can't you dream about something else for once!_ Harry had sent a rather nasty shock through Ginny and awoken her right at the point of sleep.

_Well that's it for tonight, then. I'll have to make the best of it_.

She sat in thought on the couch for another moment, and then stood and walked out the back door, putting her hair into a tight ponytail as she went. She walked straight to the broom shed and went inside. Three minutes, and several overturned buckets later, she emerged clutching an old broom. Confident that the darkness would conceal her, she straddled her broom, and kicked off into the night.

Freedom.

The warm summer breeze pulled at her hair and clothes as she flew. She started slow, as she hadn't been on a broom in well over a year, especially one as old as this, but as she regained her balance and confidence, she flew faster and higher, executing steep dives and tight rolls. Flying released some of the tension caused by her undetermined relationship with Harry, and she found that the harder she flew, the better she felt. Her maneuvers became more and more difficult, reaching the outer edges of her archaic broom's handling capabilities. In the middle of a particularly nasty barrel roll combination, Ginny lost control and went tumbling to the ground.

She landed with a crack, and pain flowered up her left leg. She knew without even trying that it would never support her weight, and her broom had landed somewhere outside her reach. Not that it would have done her much good anyway, as she doubted she'd be able to fly with a broken leg. To make it worse, in her single-minded attention to her maneuvers, she hadn't noticed that she'd gone to the far outskirts of the Weasley property. It was unlikely someone would stumble upon her out here, especially at five o'clock in the morning.

She considered shooting up sparks or sending a Patronus, but she could just see the first hints of dawn on the horizon and she knew no one would be awake to see her signals, yet. She'd have to wait. Hopefully Harry would wake up soon and come looking for her.

Ginny gritted her teeth against the pain, and moved her leg into a more natural position, so it could begin to heal. Just as she was about to try and get comfortable and sleep a bit, she heard the unmistakable crack of apparation, followed by rapid footsteps behind her.

Ginny tensed and reached for her wand, only to discover that it wasn't in her pocket. She'd left it next to her bed when she woke up this morning.

_Idiot. Stupid idiot, _she silently berated herself. The best she could do now was hope they didn't discover her.

As the steps got closer and closer to her, however, she knew that whoever was out there knew exactly where she was. Ginny was really wishing she'd been more insistent that Harry teach her how to apparate, though whether it could be done with a broken leg and no wand, she had no idea.

A sudden feeling of concern washed over Ginny, and it carried the distinctive trace of Harry with it. Ginny paused in her worry, and concentrated on the feeling in her core, attempting to isolate Harry's location. The answer she got was unexpected, but not at all unwelcome.

"Harry? I'm over here," she called.

The footsteps came faster and Harry appeared over the top of the reeds.

"There you are! I knew you were here, but I couldn't see you. How do you always know when I'm coming?" Harry asked.

"I told you, Harry. Distinctive breathing patterns. But that's not important right now. I'm so glad you're here. Can you help me? I can't get up."

"You can't? Why not? What happened? I _thought_ you were hurt, but I didn't know why or how. I just woke up and knew you were out here and needed help. I kept hoping I was dreaming and that you weren't really hurt, but, well, I guess I wasn't dreaming."

"Not about this, you weren't," Ginny mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing, Harry. Nothing. Now can you please help me up so I can get back inside?"

"Sure thing. Here."

Ginny expected him to let her hang on his shoulder and half-walk the way back, but he, apparently, had other plans. Carefully, but quickly, he scooped Ginny up in his arms and began to carry her towards the Burrow.

"Harry! I can walk a bit, you know. You don't have to carry me."

"Well, Gin, you weigh approximately as much as your average pixie, so it's really not a problem. Merlin, I don't remember you being this light! I think I could toss you up and catch you."

"I'd rather you didn't just now, if it's all the same. And I'm not any lighter, you're just a bit stronger. Besides, you didn't exactly carry me around Hogwarts, so how can you know how light I was?"

"No, but you rode on my back a couple times. And there were those times when you and I were rather, er, _cozy_ and you'd be, you know, sitting on me, or something. You weren't heavy then, either, but I swear you've gotten lighter."

The thought of those times made Ginny's cheeks redden, and she was slightly amused to see Harry was flushed a bit, too.

"Well, anyway, Gin. What were you doing out in the middle of the night?"

"Flying. I couldn't sleep. I tried reading Hermione's boring law books, but even that didn't help. Couldn't think of anything else to do, and ever since you mentioned flying a couple weeks ago, its all I've been able to think about when I'm up late at night."

"You're up like this a lot? Its not still the nightmares, is it? I thought you were over those years ago. But, I guess, given the circumstances I would understand if they'd come back."

"No, no, it's not that. Not exactly. I just haven't been able to sleep through the night for the past few weeks. It's…well I'm not exactly sure how to explain it."

Harry stopped in his tracks, and placed her gently on the ground. He plopped down next to her and got comfortable. They were within sight of the Burrow, but still far enough away to have privacy.

"Why don't you try me. I might understand better than you think. Besides, I don't like that you've been staying up all night and still leaving earlier than any of the rest of us. You've got to be exhausted. When are you sleeping?"

"Well, I get some rest here and there. I take naps and things. I just can't sleep at night, especially not here."

"Well why not? Are you afraid? What's wrong with the Burrow? Or is it just your room? Has Ron been sneaking in to snog Hermione? Merlin, that kept _me_ up for a while. I'm glad they've finally given that up."

"They haven't given it up, Harry. You've just been sleeping more soundly than usual. Hermione still sneaks into your room every night and sleeps in Ron's bed."

"Really? I've been sleeping through it?"

"Absolutely. Since I've been going to bed earlier, Hermione doesn't even stop by my room at night anymore. She goes straight up after you've fallen asleep."

"How do you know all this? Haven't you been sleeping at all?"

"I sleep just fine until everybody else gets to bed. After that, no."

"Well? Why not?"

"The short answer is, because your dreams distract me."

"_My_ dreams distract _you_? That makes no ruddy sense, and you know it. Come on. Quit messing with me. Listen, Ginny, I'm seriously worried about you. I want to help."

She saw the concern in his eyes and felt his love for her deep inside. She placed a hand on her stomach, over the warmth in her gut, and felt its heat on her cool fingers. Ginny took a long, slow breath.

"It's a long story, so promise to just listen, okay?" Harry nodded and she continued. "Okay, then. I'm going to say this the only way I know how: I have a connection with you, and have had one since the end of my first year of Hogwarts. It started after you rescued me from Tom in the Chamber. I didn't know what to make of it at first. It wasn't like I could read your mind or anything like that. I just…well in the beginning I didn't know what it was. It was just a strange feeling I had.

When you visited the Burrow the next year, it got stronger. That's how I knew it was connected to you. In that first year it was mostly just that I knew you were _alive_. I could feel it, in here," She pressed a hand into her gut. "But the longer I knew you, the more it changed. During the Triwizard Tournament it became a sort of indicator of your energy level. The more tired you were, the cooler my "Harry Spot" would be. The next year I discovered I could sense your moods when we were in the same room. The year after that, my fifth year, your sixth…well, things got interesting. It was when you were here that summer that I noticed it for the first time.

You looked at me differently and suddenly it wasn't just warmth in my gut, but tiny sparks racing up and down my back." Harry's cheeks tinged pink, but Ginny didn't notice. She hadn't really been looking at him while she was telling her story. "I had no idea what that meant until much later. Turns out, that was what happened when you were thinking about me in a strictly non-platonic sort of way. After we started dating, it was a near-constant state of being. It was like a sort of sexual tension that I could actually _feel_. Every time we kissed it sort of released some of that tension for a while, and it calmed down the sparks. I got used to them.

Then the next year you were gone. I knew you weren't dead because I could feel it, and even though you were far away, I could sometimes tell that you were extremely sad and lonely. When you died…Merlin, Harry. It felt like I died. I was so cold and empty inside. Your life-force had been warming me for the last six years and suddenly it was gone. It was the worst feeling in my entire life. I'll never forget what it felt like to live in a world where you didn't exist. When I finally felt the warmth again, I couldn't have been happier.

Since then it's gotten even stronger. I can tell where you are, almost exactly, from anywhere on this property. When we're at Grimmauld Place or George's shop, I can tell there, too. I know your emotions much more precisely than I ever did before. When you think of me it sends a wave of fire through my entire body. When you feel, you know, _affectionate_, it sends sparks straight down my back, much more powerfully than before. That's what's been keeping me up all night. You've been having some rather steamy dreams of me, I suppose, and they literally shock me awake. I can't sleep through them. I don't know what's happening in there," she tapped his forehead, "but I can tell you like it."

Harry's face was on fire now, and dimly, Ginny was registering that he was extremely embarrassed.

"Look, Harry. It's not a big deal. It's not like you can help what you dream. And, honestly, I'd rather be woken up by a dream about me than to wake up terrified, knowing you're dreaming about _him_."

"I didn't…I can't…This has been happening for _years_?"

Ginny nodded

"And I never knew? Why didn't you tell me?"

"What would I have said, Harry? It's not like you would've enjoyed learning that your best mate's baby sister had intimate knowledge of you and that she couldn't control it. It was really scary, at first. I couldn't understand what was going on, but I was too afraid to ask anybody about it. I'd already been possessed by Voldemort. I was afraid if anyone knew I was somehow linked to Harry Potter they'd chuck me in the loony bin. You probably would've kept as far away from me as possible if you'd known. I couldn't possibly tell you."

"Fair point. But why tell me now, then?"

"You wanted to know the truth, and I'm tired of making up stories. Besides that, we're both older now, we've been through more. It's not as scary as it would have been when we were kids. Something like this is almost welcome. It reminds you how close you are to the people you love."

Harry thought for a moment about everything Ginny had told him. If what she said was true, and he had no reason to think it wasn't, then he'd been the cause of many a sleepless night lately. He hadn't had a good night of sleep until he started dreaming about Ginny, and before that his dreams were too gruesome to think about anymore. He doubted she'd had a decent sleep since the battle, except for those nights when he was awake. He didn't like the idea that his sleeping was preventing her from going off to dreamland. He'd rather _he_ be the one awake, if it meant Ginny got to sleep.

"Harry, stop it. It isn't your fault."

His eyes widened in surprise and slight panic. Ginny laughed.

"Don't freak out. I still can't read your mind. But I told you, I can read your emotions very precisely, so it's very close to reading your mind. And really, Harry. It isn't all that difficult to know when you're feeling guilty. I don't have to read your emotions, I can see it on your face."

"I just feel bad for keeping you awake all summer. You probably haven't slept at all, have you?"

"Not much, but I get by. I've never been one of those people who needs loads of sleep. I was doing alright until recently, actually. And even still, I'm managing. If I hadn't fallen off my broom today I could very well have kept it up for a lot longer. It's just those dreams, Harry. I really hope they're worth all the lost sleep."

Harry's deepening blush and the jolt she felt told her they were _definitely_ worth it. Her body was still buzzing, when Harry leaned over with a gleam in his eye and said, "What was it you said made the shocks more manageable? Kissing?"

And then his lips covered hers. They were soft and warm and Ginny welcomed his affection. Careful not to jar her leg, Harry wrapped an arm around Ginny's back, digging his fingers into her hair and crushing her mouth against his. He kissed her hungrily, as if he was making up for all the time they lost while they were apart. Her hands ran over his back, gripping his shoulders or playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. Harry's arms tightened around her as his mouth opened and his tongue brushed across her lips. Ginny's tongue darted out to meet his, and their kiss deepened.

It wasn't until Ginny moved her leg while trying to curl into Harry's body that they stopped. Ginny pulled back with a sharp gasp of pain and Harry bent over her leg to make sure they hadn't done any worse damage.

"I think we'd better get you inside before we make this worse."

"Probably a good idea."

Ginny winced as Harry picked her back up off the ground. She knew they looked like a mess. Her ponytail had come apart completely, thanks to Harry, and his hair was messier than usual, as well. Their shirts were both wrinkled and Ginny's was stained green from the grass she'd fallen in. She was just hoping she could blame it all on the trek back to the Burrow, her fall off the broom, and Harry's early rising. Her mum would just be so happy to have Ginny safe that she wouldn't worry about the fact that her face was flushed and her lips were swollen, obviously from kissing. Not to mention that the handsome man carrying her into the house was in the exact same shape, except for the broken leg.

Harry sat her carefully on the couch and went upstairs to fetch Mrs. Weasley. The sun was just appearing on the horizon, and the sky was a pleasant shade of pink. Ginny ran her fingers through her hair, and tried to calm down her pulsing body before her mum came in to examine her. In just moments, she heard Molly Weasley's rapid footsteps descending the stairs.

"Ginny! I'm so glad you're okay! Harry told me what happened. What were you doing flying all by yourself at night? If he hadn't happened to find you while out on his morning walk, you might still be out there. How did you plan on getting back to the Burrow with a leg like this? How many times have I told you children never to fly alone? Now lie back and be still, dear, I'm going to set the bone so I can start healing it."

It was a good thing Molly didn't expect an answer to any of her questions because she didn't leave Ginny any time to answer them. Before she even had an opportunity to grit her teeth, her mum was shifting the bone into its proper place. Ginny's sharp cry of pain brought Harry to stand behind the couch, looking down into her face as she lay there.

Ginny reached up a hand, and gripped Harry's. As Molly set about healing the broken bone, she squeezed his hand, drawing strength from him. Finally, Molly pulled her wand away and sighed.

"Well dear, you're all set," she said to Ginny as she positioned a pillow under Ginny's head. She turned to Harry. "Healing always makes her sleepy. I expect you to take care of her while I make breakfast, young man. I'm thrilled to death that you've finally come to your senses and gotten back together, but now you have to show us that you can actually care for her. I'm off to the kitchen. Keep her company while she naps, will you, Harry? That's a dear."

Both Harry and Ginny stared in wonder at Molly Weasley's retreating back. How she already knew what had happened just moments ago was astonishing, but not altogether surprising. She'd known about Hermione and Ron since the beginning, but hadn't said anything to them about it yet. Maybe she approved of all of this more than she let on.

Harry moved around the side of the couch until he was sitting next to Ginny's head. Her eyelids were already beginning to droop, and he held her hand until she dropped off to sleep. He didn't want to disturb her with his dreams, but he'd woken up far earlier than usual this morning. Besides that, Mrs. Weasley had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to stay with her until she woke up. Grabbing Hermione's law book off the floor where Ginny had dropped it, and positioning a pillow against the couch near Ginny's head, he settled in to do a little reading.

When Molly Weasley came to check on them 10 minutes later, she found them both fast asleep, Harry's head resting next to Ginny's and her hand clutched in his, Hermione's book lying forgotten on the floor once again.


	6. Chapter 6

Ginny woke to darkness and an unpleasant pain in her neck. She rolled over, trying to get more comfortable and go back to sleep, when she encountered a mysterious lack of bed, and dumped herself unceremoniously onto the floor. The strange lump she had landed on groaned and tried to sit up. Ginny quickly scrambled up, untangling herself from the blanket she was wrapped in.

She was _not_ in her bed. That much was clear. She guessed, by the blanket and the smaller-than-usual "bed", that she was in the living room, on the couch. And that writhing lump of blankets she'd landed on was most likely a person, though she couldn't imagine who. It wasn't Hermione, unless her voice had deepened significantly without Ginny's noticing.

"Uggggh. Merlin, Gin. Why'd you have to roll off the couch?" The mound of blankets shifted and a face appeared.

Ah. That was it. Harry. Of course. Though why was Harry…ohhhh. It all came rushing back to her. She'd been out flying when she broke her leg. Harry had brought her back into the Burrow. Harry had kissed her. Then her mum must have healed her leg, and Ginny fell asleep. Healing always took the life right out of her. She must not have slept long, though, if it was still dark out. But where was her mum? The kitchen was dead silent. Ginny would've expected her to just stay up and make breakfast early, since it was almost morning anyway.

"Sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to. Where'd mum go?"

Harry sat up and rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

"Where'd your mum go? She's in bed. It's the middle of the night. Where did you expect her to be?"

"Well I would've thought she'd have stayed up and made breakfast instead of going back to bed."

"Gin, she _did_ stay up and make breakfast…this morning. You've been asleep nearly a whole day. I've never seen anyone so tired after a healing. Madam Pomphrey regrew my whole arm, once, and I wasn't this tired."

"Healing always drains me. I'm not sure why. It's why Mum always makes me lie down when I take medi-potions or when she mends a bone. I've never slept a whole day before, though."

"Well it probably had to do with the fact that you hadn't slept for weeks before this. Your mum was worried she'd done something wrong, and I had to try and explain to her that you were exhausted to start with."

"Right. I _do_ feel more energized than I've felt in a month or so. And my leg feels completely better."

"That's great, love, but I'd really like to go back to sleep. Do you think you can keep out of trouble long enough for me to get a little rest?" Harry wriggled back down under his blanket with a cheeky grin, and got comfy. Ginny made to get up and sit across the room to read, when Harry's seeker-trained hand shot out and gripped her leg.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Ginny looked at him, confused.

"I'm keeping out of trouble so you can sleep. I was going to do some reading, but my book is upstairs. I can't read another word of that ruddy law book of Hermione's. Besides, I don't want the light of my wand to disturb you. I'll sit over by the window."

"That sounds like a good plan, love. But what I meant was, where do you think you're going without giving me a goodnight kiss?"

Ginny chuckled as she looked down into Harry's laughing eyes, and sarcastic smile. She missed this about their relationship together, the playfulness. He was always so much more childlike than anyone ever suspected. He loved to play games with her and joke around. It was one of the things she'd come to love most about her Harry Potter.

Ginny bent to gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, but Harry put his hand behind her neck and pulled her down for an electrifying kiss that left her breathless. Finally, but far too soon, he pulled back, caressed her face, and burrowed farther under his blankets to return to sleep. Ginny smoothed the hair away from his forehead and climbed the stairs to gather her book from her room.

Ginny pushed open the door cautiously, hoping not to see Hermione and her brother in there, and was pleasantly surprised to find a completely different sight. Hermione _was _there, but Ron, thankfully, was not. The bushy-haired witch was curled up in the corner of her cot, nose buried deep in another law book. She didn't lift her eyes from the page when she heard the creak of Ginny's door.

"I thought I told you to stay in your own room, tonight. Honestly, Ron, one night alone, without snogging, won't kill you, and I said I wanted to get some reading done, and maybe talk to Ginny, if she ever wakes up. Just go back to your room, and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Hermione finally looked up and her mouth formed a little "o" at the sight of a distinctly different Weasley standing in the doorway.

"Expecting someone else, Hermione? I'm glad to know you do bar Ron from my room at least _sometimes_. I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever sleep alone again."

"Ginny! You're awake! Oh, I'm so sorry about all that, I thought you were Ron. I _told _him —"

"I think I pretty much heard what you told him, actually, Hermione." Ginny smiled at her friend, "It's good to have you back. I've missed talking to you."

"Oh, I've missed talking to you, too. That's why I told him to bugger off for tonight. I wanted a chance to talk to you about, you know, girl things."

Ginny sat shyly, but eagerly, on the other end of Hermione's cot, and pulled a corner of the blanket over her legs.

"What sorts of girl things, Hermione? Things like you and my thick-headed brother finally realizing what the rest of us have known for _ages_," Ginny teased.

Hermione blushed a fantastic shade of scarlet.

"Yes, that. And other things. Like, did you know that a certain black-haired wizard sat with you _all day_ while you slept?"

"He was there the whole day? What did he _do_ that whole time?"

"Well I'm not exactly sure. He read a little, I think, and napped. Mostly he just sat there. Ron and I talked to him for a bit, but he was too afraid to wake you, so he didn't say much. Your mum _did_ manage to convince him that you weren't going to fade away while he was eating, so he ate supper with the rest of us at the table, but he was always just scarfing things down, rushing to get back to you. Scared Ron with how fast he was eating, actually, and you know that's not easy to do. What's going on?"

It was Ginny's turn to blush, now.

"We had a talk last night, after I broke my leg. Then we kissed and I think we're back together, now. He never said we were, but he's never been good at words. It's what we both want, and, honestly, I don't see how it could be any other way. I love him, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock.

"You _love_ him? Ginny, you're 16. You aren't even of age, yet. How can you possibly know you love him? You haven't spent much time with him since we got back. He's different than he was before. It just isn't logical."

"Logic has nothing to do with the heart, Hermione. I thought you wouldn't figured that out by now. Besides, I know exactly how different he is, but I also know that he's the same in all the important ways. Look, I don't exactly expect you to understand, but I've known for _years_ that I loved Harry. He loves me too, you know. He doesn't know it yet, and I can't explain to you how _I _know how _he_ feels, but I do. He and I…yes, we're different. Both of us are. I feel so much older, Hermione, and I can't help but think he does, too. But no matter how much we change, we'll always love each other. We're connected in a way that nobody else can understand. Being 'together' again is a formality at best. We were never _not_ together, Hermione. Not when he broke up with me in 5th year, not when you all left last summer and we were thousands of miles apart, and not when he came back and we didn't speak to each other because of our grief. Never. I love him. I don't think I could ever _not_ love him. Honestly, Hermione? Logic? Tell me what's logical about loving my brother. At least Harry has a few ounces of sense."

Hermione sat speechless on the other end of the bed. She'd watched Ginny's eyes blaze as she talked and knew that what she'd said was true, at least as Ginny saw it. She couldn't imagine how all this had happened and she hadn't known. Ginny had told her that she had a crush on Harry, but she'd advised her to put it behind her, and Ginny had, so Hermione thought. Then they'd started dating, and Hermione knew that Ginny had never really let go of Harry. Was this so different? Ginny had proven to be rather less than honest when it came to her feelings for the dark-haired wizard. Had she simply lied to Hermione about it all those years ago?

Ginny must have seen the hurt in Hermione's eyes, because she reached across the space between them and grabbed the other girl's hand.

"Don't be angry. I didn't really understand what it all meant until recently. And I still have questions I can't answer. I just…I don't know if I'm ready to tell you the whole story yet. It's deeply personal for both Harry and I, and I want to know his full reaction before I go telling others. I trust you, Hermione. It's not about that. It's just that I want this to be between Harry and I for a while. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Ginny. I really wish I knew what was going on. I get the feeling that there's something big you aren't telling me. But, I just want you to know that, even though I haven't really been _here_ lately," Hermione gestured to the room around them, "I'm always willing to listen to you. And I really do miss these chats, though I liked them better when I knew what was going on."

Ginny laughed.

"I understand, Hermione. Why don't we talk about something you're an expert on. Tell me about you and Ron. And don't try and pretend like I don't know what's happening there, because you've been sneaking around for months, and we all know about it. Even mum. So tell me _everything_."

Hermione blushed again, and fussed with the blankets.

"Well, I don't know that there's much to tell," she said, looking down at the bed, "I mean, we're together. I don't know what else to say. And Ron does have a couple ounces of sense, actually. At least, sometimes he does."

"No, he doesn't, Hermione. But it's okay. You have enough for the both of you. And I'm not taking that rubbish excuse about not knowing what to say. You know exactly what to say. Tell me about how you _feel_, Hermione."

"Well, I suppose I feel extremely happy. It's Ron, you know? I think I've fancied him for, oh I don't know, ages, I guess. It's probably his lack of sense that draws me to him, actually. He's a bit like a lost puppy, I think. Anyway. Now we finally get to be together. It's been strange, though, too. I mean, we used to fight so much, and now we spend most of our time doing…other things."

"Like snogging. Yeah, I understand. I don't think that'll last much longer though, do you?"

"What, the snogging? If Ron knows what's good for him, the snogging will last a very long time into the future. Oh, pick your jaw up off the floor, Ginny. Don't pretend it's just the boys who like to kiss. You know you like kissing Harry, and I like kissing Ron. If I have to hear you talk about snogging _my_ brother, you have to listen to me talk about snogging yours. But, anyway, the fighting, who knows? It was certainly interesting fighting with Ron, but I think right now we're just enjoying being together."

Ginny stared at Hermione, mouth agape. A roar of laughter escaped her, and before they knew it both girls were doubled over, laughing as hard as they could remember.

"Honestly, Hermione," Ginny said between giggles, "I really didn't need to know how much you love snogging my brother. That's just…repulsive. Kissing Ron."

Ginny made a gagging motion, and Hermione swatted her on the arm.

"Well thinking of you kissing Harry is similar, you know."

"But you didn't grow up with him. You didn't watch him put all sorts of nasty things in his mouth. Really, Hermione. You don't know where that mouth has been."

"Ugh, I'd rather not know all that about Ron, thank you. Harry, either. Boys are so disgusting sometimes. How they go through childhood being so _dirty_ I'll never understand. I'm happy in my naivety, thanks."

"Well at least with Harry I don't have to think about it as much, because ever since I've met him, he's kept himself quite clean."

"The first time I met Ron he had dirt on his nose. I guess I was doomed to a life with a dirty, stinky boy from day one, then. Oh well. We can't all have the good-smelling ones."

The girls laughed again, and settled into a companionable silence for a few moments, as each girl swam in her own thoughts. Hermione turned and looked at Ginny, who was gazing out the window.

"We're the luckiest witches in the world, you know. You, especially. Not that I'm jealous of you. I have Ron. Harry's like my brother, for Merlin's sake. But you're dating the Wizarding World's Most Eligible Bachelor. Furthermore, you say he loves you and you love him. You're the girl who gets to date the man who saved the whole world. And I can call him my brother. And then there's Ron. He's the man who was Harry's sort of sidekick, but also his teammate. I get to date the man who Harry Potter calls 'best friend'. And he's _your_ brother. We're dating two of the most powerful men in the world. Harry probably wouldn't even have to answer to Kingsley if he didn't want to. And yet, to us, they're just Harry and Ron. How'd we get so lucky?"

"I don't know, Hermione. I don't think 'luck' has much of anything to do with it, though. I've never really believed in luck. I think it was fate. I've been entranced with Harry Potter since I was a kid and I heard his stories. I never dreamed I'd meet him. I never even imagined I'd be in a relationship with him. But here I am. You're right. Every witch in the world wishes she was me. That's a pretty powerful feeling."

"It is, isn't it?"

The companionable silence returned, and they each sat quietly, until the silence was broken by Hermione's quiet yawn.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep you up. I just came up to get a book so I could read while Harry sleeps. I'll let you get to bed. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Ginny."

She collected her book and her wand, and quietly made her way back downstairs. Seeing that Harry was sound asleep, she curled up next to the window to read. It wasn't long before her eyes began to feel heavy again. After nodding off for the third time, Ginny finally put her book down, and went over to the couch to get a little more sleep before the sun came up.

She had intended to sleep on the couch where she'd woken up from, but upon closer inspection of Harry's sleeping nest, she noticed that he had taken all the blankets _and_ all the pillows off it, and was sprawled across and under them, all twisted up. She tried to extricate a pillow and blanket to use, but every time she would try to move one, he would stir, and she was afraid to wake him. She could go up to her bed, but she just didn't want to leave him here alone. It seemed wrong when he'd so patiently sat with her all day. With a sigh, Ginny accepted that she had only one other option.

Lifting a corner of the blanket pile, she wiggled her way into Harry's cocoon. As if on instinct, his arm wrapped tight around her waist, sending warmth and love through their connection. A deep, contented sigh came from the back of his throat. With a small smile, Ginny burrowed deeper into Harry's embrace, and closed her eyes to the best night of sleep she'd ever had in her life. And she dreamt of their future.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry didn't know if it was the sunlight that woke him or whatever was tickling his nose as he breathed. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, but he could see the light through his eyelids and feel it on his face.

And something was definitely tickling his nose.

He reached his arm up to swat it away, only to feel his arm was wrapped tightly around something, or what felt more like some_one_.

His eyes snapped open and met the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen. Ginny slept peacefully, wrapped in his arms. Her hair sparkled in the sunlight, and her face bore the most innocent expression Harry had ever seen. It was her long, copper hair that was tickling him. He pulled his arm away from Ginny, and pulled the long strand of hair away from his face, smiling as he did. He bent to give her a kiss on the forehead when he heard the most terrifying sound of his life.

"Ahem."

Harry's eyes jerked up and met four sets of identical Weasley blue gazing at him with a mixture of amusement and impending doom. Harry disentangled himself from Ginny slowly, careful to maintain eye contact with her brothers. Ginny sighed and rolled into the space Harry was previously occupying as he carefully climbed out of his "bed" on the floor. Bill motioned for him to follow them, and then led the way outside.

Harry felt like he was walking to his death. He wasn't this afraid walking through the forest to meet Voldemort, but just walking across the Burrow's lawn with these four men gave him a serious fear for his life. He honestly didn't know how Ginny had gotten down there with him. She must have climbed in after she got done reading last night, but how was he supposed to explain that to four dangerous-looking brothers? Even George was looking slightly intimidating, though it was tinged with his ever-present sadness. Bill led them to a little copse of trees not far from the house, but where they could not easily be seen or heard. No sooner had they stopped, than he whirled to face Harry, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Explain yourself, Potter."

"Er, explain what? I was asleep. I didn't even know she was there."

"Didn't know she was there!? You looked awfully cozy, all wrapped around her like that, if you didn't even know she was _there_."

"Look, Bill, I don't know what to tell you. When I went to sleep, she was up in her room taking bloody forever to fetch a book. When I woke up, well, you were there, so you know what happened."

"Yeah, I saw it. I don't really understand it, though."

"What my brother is trying to say, Harry, is that he'd like to know how you and Ginevra came to be together in the first place. When you broke up with her and ran off after Bill's wedding, we all assumed you were done with her. She didn't take it well, you know. Pined after you the whole time you were away."

"You, of all people, should know better than to assume things about people, Percy. I've never been 'done' with Ginny, as you put it. We just had to go on break for a while. I missed her, too, but we both understood what had to be done."

"Didn't seem like you were missing her much out there in the woods, mate," Ron said.

"Well, I was. Why d'you think I kept the Marauder's Map? I checked it every night when I was on guard duty to be sure she was safe in Gryffindor Tower."

"You kept the map, Harry? We- er- _I_ wondered if you still used it."

Harry looked at George askance. Even after accidentally using "we" instead of "I", which usually set George back for days, mention of the Marauder's Map had put a slight twinkle in his eye.

"Yeah, George. Use it all the time. Dead useful, that thing. One of the best tools I've got."

George smiled a tiny smile.

"Well, I still don't understand," Bill interjected. "If you never gave her up, why'd you break up with her? And what gives you the right to just pick back up again? She isn't something you can just play around with when it's convenient, Potter. She isn't a toy."

"No, Bill. Ginny is anything but a toy. She's a woman. A strong woman. If I hadn't broken up with her to go hunt down Voldemort, eventually she would have given me a strong kick in the arse and broken up with me herself. She knew I couldn't go if I was always thinking about my commitment to her. So, she let me release myself from that commitment. But she never once thought it was over. Did Ron ever tell you what he saw before we left?" Ron shook his head in the negative, as the three remaining brothers turned to him.

Ron's face looked grim as he shared his news with his brothers.

"He kissed her. On his birthday. Marched right into her room and kissed her full on the lips. She didn't even have time to tell him to stop. I still don't know if I'm okay with it."

Harry laughed.

"Is that what you think happened? Let me tell you the real story. Ginny wanted to give me my birthday gift in private, so _she_ led me up to her room and _she_ kissed _me. _I was the one who didn't have time to say 'stop', and I wouldn't have, anyway. We had one kiss. Neither of us knew if I'd come back or if I'd be the same Harry when I did. That one last kiss had to last a lifetime. It was the best birthday present I've ever gotten. Ginny knew that nothing could come of it, but she gave it anyway. And then you stormed in and accused me of playing with her feelings. As if a woman strong enough to send the man she cares about into battle with only a kiss to remember her would allow her emotions to be _played with_. Ginny is far too strong for that. Every boy who's ever tried to manipulate her, or prey on her fragile emotional state has ended up brokenhearted and hexed to oblivion. I would never even think about trying it. Besides, Ginny's worth so much more than a wanker like that. Hell, she's worth a lot more than _me_, but for some reason she's willing to put up with all the danger and hurt that goes along with being with me. I can't explain it, okay? She…she just knows me and I know her. You know her, too. That's why you had to bring me so far out here, where we can't really be seen. You know that if she saw you treating me like this she'd be out here in a second to hex your bits off. What makes you think I could ever take advantage of a witch like that? I care about Ginny so much. I don't know how she got into those blankets with me, but if I have the opportunity to wake up to her beautiful face like that in the future, you can bet I'm going to do everything I can to make that happen."

George, Bill, Ron, and Percy all looked at Harry with a combination of awe and reluctant acceptance. For Bill, no one, not even Harry Potter, would ever be worthy of his baby sister, and his gaze said as much. Ron, on the other hand, looked almost relieved to have the two of them together again. He clapped Harry on the back.

"Welcome to the family, then, mate."

Harry's face reddened as he smiled, and the four men laughed for a moment, Bill still looking on disapprovingly. When at last they turned to walk back to the Burrow, they caught sight of a slightly disheveled Ginny waltzing slowly towards them in her pajamas, twirling her wand between her fingers.

"Having fun out here, boys?" Ginny called across the yard.

"Yeah. Just a nice little walk in the woods with young Harry here," George yelled back. "Nothing to worry your little head about, Ginnykins."

Ginny didn't let her surprise at George's mood show, as she continued to approach the men with a cat-like smile.

"What do you say, Harry? Everything all right? They aren't giving you a hard time, are they?"

"Nothing I can't handle, love. Just bloke stuff."

"Mmmm," Ginny said, still smiling that sinister smile. "You sure you don't need any help? I've heard a few things about _bloke stuff_ myself. I can take care of it for you."

"Thanks, Gin, but really we're alright. Right, men?" They all nodded enthusiastically. "See? All taken care of."

Ginny lowered her wand with a pout.

"You ruin all the fun, Harry."

Harry chuckled and pulled Ginny in for a hug.

"Sorry, Gin. Next time I'll let you have your fun. For now, though, you'll just have to be content to leave them be. Just think of it as…saving the fun for later, yeah?"

"Okay." Ginny smiled.

"Oi! Potter! What exactly do you plan on doing with my sister that's going to involve having this conversation again?"

In response, Harry wrapped his arm around Ginny's waist, pulling her close to his side, and walked back to the Burrow, leaving a gaggle of astonished redheads behind.

It turned out that Percy had come to the Burrow that day, not only to interrogate Harry, but also to deliver a message from the Minister. Kingsley had said he wanted to be there himself, but was called to pressing business in Italy and, unfortunately, couldn't be present. Percy delivered the Minister's sentiments to the family, and then handed a sealed envelope to Mr. Weasley. He slid his wand under the seal, and unfolded the letter. At first glance, it appeared blank, by Arthur gave it a tap with his wand and muttered under his breath. Words began to appear on the page.

Dear Friends,

I'm sorry to have taken so long to process your request, but the foreign government has proven more difficult to deal with than I originally anticipated. Also, it seems that the names you had me search for were more common than anyone could have known. However, after several weeks of thumbing through Muggle records on some sort of elaborate muggle filing system which is apparently all stored "on a line" within a "comp-looter", whatever that means, they found the ones you were looking for. I have given the address to the one who gave you this letter. He does not know he has it, but if you ask him the question "Where can we find that which was lost?" he will state the place where they can be found. It's a handy little charm I learned as an Auror. If you don't get it all written down or memorized the first time, you may ask him twice more before he forgets, so be careful. I recommend getting the information you need, then asking the remaining times to ensure no one else should be able to access this information. I have been made aware that several Death Eaters have been running about causing general disruptions of the peace, so I have made this letter intentionally oblique, in case they should run across it before you do.

Well, I'm incredibly busy so I'll end here. I hope to see you again soon.

Yours,

The King

"The King? He's not being very oblique with that one, is he? That seems fairly obvious. They'd know right away that Kingsley sent it," Ron said.

"Well there was the invisibility charm. That one is uniqe to the two of us. We used it on our Order missions," Arthur said as his eyes flashed over the letter, again.

"Indeed, but I suppose anyone who intercepted this letter would have known who sent it, anyway. It was I, assistant to the Minister of Magic, who was carrying the letter, after all," Percy said, with a distinct air of pompousness.

"Oh, shove it, Big Head Boy. You're not even in the same office as the Minister anymore," Ginny said.

"Only because I've been promoted to my own, larger office!" Percy rebutted.

Arthur saw the rising tension, and turned to Percy as he said "Where can we find that which was lost?"

Immediately Percy snapped to attention. His eyes turned glassy and he spoke in a deep voice very unlike his own. It reminded Harry of the strange way Professor Trelawny spoke when she was giving a prophecy.

"3 Oldman Court, Wendouree, Victoria"

Mr. Weasley mumbled the address under his breath as he searched the room for a piece of scrap parchment. Ginny reached across the table, flipped over Kingsley's letter, and scribbled the address using a quill she snatched off the kitchen counter. She checked her paper, and asked Percy again.

"Have you got it, Ginny?"

"Yeah, Dad. 3 Oldman Court, Wendouree, Victoria."

"I'd best ask him again, then, to finish it off."

Arthur asked Percy once again, and Ginny checked her paper, to be sure she was correct. Then, it was silent.

Unsurprisingly, it was Ron who spoke first.

"Well. I guess that's that, then. We've got all the preparations made. Hermione wants us to travel like Muggles, so she got us some tickets for those air thingies ages ago. She says they're "open sided" or something—"

"Open _ended_, Ron. It means we can go whenever we want. And they're called airplanes," Hermione interjected quietly.

"Right, that. So I guess all we've got to do is pack and we'll be ready to go this afternoon."

Molly gasped and spoke with so much urgency that her words and sentences all ran together. "This afternoon! So soon? But you can't possibly have it all in order yet. What about money and food. And I just don't trust those muggle airyplane things. Portkeys would be so much faster and safer, dears. And you're still so young! You can't go travelling about the world on your own. Something could happen to you! I never thought you'd be going alone. Can't your father or I come with you?"

"Mum, we've got it all taken care of. Hermione got some Galleons changed at Gringotts ages ago and she went and took some money out of her parent's muggle bank, as well. She knows how to use the money, too, Mum. She _is _Muggleborn, after all. And they'll feed us while we're, er, flying, I suppose. That's what Hermione says, anyway. She's done this all before. We're of age. We can do it. All we need to do is get the last of our clothes together. We've both had a suitcase standing by for weeks now."

Hermione had been standing next to Ron, quietly, appearing as if she was utterly overwhelmed by the whole situation. It's quite possible that she was, in fact. Finally, in a small voice, she spoke.

"Mrs. Weasley, my parents are there. I know, at first I didn't want to go get them, but now that we've found them, well, I just can't imagine living without them. I've had a wonderful time here, but, it's my Mum and Dad, you know? I…I've missed them. And I'm completely terrified of what they'll say when they see me, but I know that I've got to do this. And I'm ready. I'd go alone and spare you-all the trouble, but Ron wouldn't hear of it. And, well, we've travelled on our own before, you know. This time it's easier because we know where we're going and we have real food and money and a place to stay. And airplanes are perfectly safe, Mrs. Weasley. They're quite fun, really, especially the first time. We'll be careful, I promise. But I have to do this, and I need to do it as soon as possible. So, we'll be leaving this afternoon, as soon as we get packed. I don't know how long it will take to convince them I am who I say I am. It's a tricky memory charm I did on them, and it can't just be undone. Even once I release it, I'll have to pull the memories back up. They'll go on thinking they're Wendell and Monica until I can convince them that they aren't. And once I do get the memories back, I'll have a lot of explaining to do. I haven't exactly been honest with them about what's happened recently. I don't know that they've ever been fully aware of what happens at Hogwarts, actually. I haven't told them about any of our 'adventures'. It could take a while to get them home, but we'll let you know when we're on our way back. I'm so thankful for your care, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, but I'm ready to fetch my parents. While we're gone, though, maybe you could try and finish up Grimmauld Place, or something. We're nearly done, but there's still a lot of decorating to do. It needs a woman's touch, and I'm worried these boys will paint the whole place royal blue and buy awful, heavy, black, mismatched furniture. Would you help them, please? If it can't be finished by the time we get back, maybe they can stay in Charlie's room for a while, or something. Can you get it all arranged for me? I really need your help wth this."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Hermione for a moment before capturing her in a bone-crushing hug. Both women had tears shining in their eyes.

"Hermione, dear, you know your parents can stay as long as they'd like. We'd be happy to have them. But I'll do my best to get Grimmauld Place ready to go before you get back, so they can settle right in. And you two be safe. I'm still not happy about all this, and I wish you'd take an adult with you, but you're right, this needs to be done now. And I'd rather have you and Ron go together than risk you running off alone. Be safe, dears. Won't you?"

Hermione smiled a timid smile and nodded.

"I promise I'll take good care of him, Mrs. Weasley."

"Oi! I'm the one supposed to be taking care of you!" Ron put a protective arm around Hermione's waist.

Mrs. Weasley ignored Ron, and looked Hermione straight in the eyes. She seemed to find whatever she was looking for there, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears once again.

"That's good, dear. He needs looking after, you know."

"I know, Mrs. Weasley."

Ron's indignant protests drew the attention away from the heavy glances that the two women shared, and disguised Hermione's step closer and Mrs. Weasley's step back. Whatever had passed between the two, it seemed that ownership of Ron had passed from the older woman to the younger. The only one to notice these tiny shifts was Ginny, as everyone else was trying to calm Ron down before he said something to make Hermione angry, which he was dangerously close to doing. The last thing Hermione wanted to hear was that she _needed_ Ron to protect her.

Luckily, Hermoine didn't seem to notice, or had chosen to ignore, for once, Ron's ramblings, and the moment passed without incident. Hermione cut Ron off mid-sentence, by tugging his arm, and pulling him up the stairs with instructions to finish packing as quickly as possible.

Nearly an hour later, Hermione and Ron had their bags sitting by the door. Ron had long ago plopped down into a kitchen chair, resigned to Hermione's frantic luggage inspection. She'd checked his bags and discovered a great many things he'd forgotten, and was now loading them in, and meticulously checking that all their things wouldn't shift and spill on the plane. She'd swapped her magical beaded bag for a larger, perfectly un-magical shoulder bag, in which she'd placed some books, a pack of Muggle chewing gum, a tiny pillow, and a small blanket. She'd handed Ron a small backpack, similarly loaded, though he had no idea what he'd be doing with those books. He suspected they were simply more for Hermione. She had books of every genre, including magical, but she'd spelled them all so only she and Ron could see what was written on the pages. She also had one notebook and a couple pens, which she'd also spelled only to be seen by the two of them. "So we can talk without being overheard," she'd told Ron.

For his part, Ron didn't understand why they had to have all this Muggle stuff. Hermione had insisted he pack his wand in his backpack, in a compartment she'd charmed to be invisible on all spectrums, using a handy spell she'd discovered while they were on the run last year. Only Ron and Hermione knew it was there, and Ron was under strict instructions not to touch it until she said he could. Based on the measures she'd taken to appear completely muggle, he expected that wouldn't be until well after they'd landed in Australia and found a safe place to stay. She had, however, managed to procure him an actual Muggle passport, which she'd told him he'd need when he got there. Wizards and Witches didn't deal with Muggle passports, so Ron had never needed one before. He was anxious to get going, but nervous about all this unfamiliar Muggle stuff he'd have to navigate. At least Hermione knew what she was doing. He'd just stay quiet and stick close to her.

Finally, Hermione zipped Ron's suitcase and declared that they were ready to go. They said goodbye to the Weasley's and Harry, lingering especially long with a sobbing, but supportive, Mrs. Weasley. Finally, they grabbed their bags, turned on the spot, and with two quiet pops, they were gone.


End file.
